Colorless
by cakeassistant
Summary: Blue, Green, Indigo,Violent,Yellow,Orange, and Red. Colors that blurred together in his world and until only the void remained. Arthur meets the new student, Alfred Jones who had moved to Arthur's small town because of his father's job. Happy and colorful, he is everything that Arthur despises.However, he can't hate him and wonders if Alfred will be his thread of hope. USUK. AU.


Chapter1: Blue

_Blue, _

_Green, _

_Indigo, _

_Violet, _

_Yellow, _

_Orange, _

_Red_

Green eyes bore into the dark blue sky above, hiding behind a coat of murky waters. He could hear muffled voices resounding through the waters, and causing small ripples to break its cloudy surface. Two unblinking eyes watched blurry figures shuffle their feet and move their arms about in odd motions, mouths moving and jaws opening and closing like drawbridges. The figures faded in and out, blending and separating like little dancing flowers on yellow mud beneath the afternoon sun. A small breathe trapped itself between his lungs, pushing and pulling itself against his chest. He held it. He stayed still. It whirled itself inside him, trying to escape by clutching and crawling its hands at his heart. The figures slowly mixed with the green and the blue, the sunlight obscuring them until they were nothing but little bright bulbs hanging above his head. Green eyes darted around, waiting for the figures to disappear from its pools so it could set the little breathe free. But they stayed. Slowly, green began to fade into blue and the little breathe had begun to stop struggling, losing its fervor. He let his body sink deeper and deeper into the water until it was sure to hit the filthy mud beneath. The breathe had stopped struggling and the green eyes were flicking in and out of the blue as they gazed dully at the floating white, hanging off a woven chain, that swirled around with a gentle ruffle. His arms dangling upward, his legs rising, while his back fell and he stayed limp like an uprooted weed.

"Blue"

"Hey, are you alright?"

Green eyes blinked at the white snow, where a blue folder lay near his feet. They looked up at the source of the disrupting clamor and they were met with a sky blue. The boy spoke again, "Hey, are you okay?" his boots kicked through the snow with more force than necessary and sent chucks of snow flying throw the air. The boy moved closer as green eyes watched him with a blank stare. He stopped in front of them, boots softly kicking at the snow to create two large holes for the boy to stand in comfortably. His eyes flicked from his boots to the boy's pale, young face with a red tipped nose, then to his eyes blue as the bright sky.

"Blue", a gloved hand broke free from its confinement of his jacket pocket. It touched his shoulder hesitantly, slowly wrapping its fingers around the fabric of his coat. "Hey, dude are you alright", blue eyes gazed at him intently waiting for a response. His green eyes merely continued to stare at the two blue pools on his face with the depth of the world's skies; however they slowly began to cloud with worry. "Hey dude, are you okay? Answer me please? Do you need me to call an ambulance?" the boy's voice was more urgent now, frantic as his hand began to shake his shoulder lightly. "I am fine" he finally answered, eyes turning into a vibrant shade of green, being pulled out of his trance. "Are you sure dude?" the boy in front of him asked, voice laced with worry, he squeezed his shoulder lightly as if he was making sure he was out of his trance. Green eyes glared with ruinous purpose at the hand on his shoulder, the hand dropped slowly and fell to its owner's side. "Yes, why?" he said. "Nothing, it's just I have been asking you for the past ten minutes to hand me that blue folder next to your feet." He pointed to it. "But you just stood still and kept saying blue, blue, over and over. I kinda got worried there for second." He laughed nervously. Boredom began to reek in the back of his head, spreading its nauseating odor to his nostrils, and make him scrunch his nose in annoyance. The boy in front of him shuffled his feet back and forth awkwardly, digging his boots into the snow and making his holes bigger. They looked like two little squirrels playing leap- frog. He wondered absently if there were any spring- frogs near. Don't be an idiot, it's not even close to spring, all the animals are still hibernating and most squirrels, the smart ones at least, would have gathered food in the summer and fall. What if a hawk swooped in and just snapped those poor squirrels by the scruff of their necks? He thought, a little worried now for the defenseless small animals. It's quite possible he mused.

Their poor families would mourn all winter and cry acorny tears; all the animals would attend their funerals. Poor little things, the rabbits would come and offer their condolences, the beetles would make the shrouds, and the owls would dig their graves. The rook would be parson, speaking strange words from his little book with a melancholic tone. The Lark would be the clerk, the linnet would carry the link, the doves would mourn all day for the loss of the poor dears, and the kites would carry the coffins. Yes, the whole forest would be in a state of mourning! He wondered if he could attend the funeral too and offer his condolences with the rabbits. What of the worms, would they be polite enough to not to start feasting upon the poor squirrels buried deep within the earth, until the animals stopping mourning at least? It wouldn't be the first time they did that. Bold, rude creatures, they were! He hoped they would consider the squirrels' families feeling at the very least; otherwise he shall have a very meaningful conversation with those brutes. They are probably still angry at him because he accidently stepped on one of them on a rainy morning, a month or two ago.

Oh how those things held grudges! It wasn't his fault though; he had been in a hurry that morning, because his stupid neighbor's cat had decided to chance him all the way to bus stop. The streets of his eerily silent neighborhood had been wet and mossy with squiggly lines of worms scattered all over it, exchanging gossip about the fox's most recent wife (the pervious had mysteriously disappeared). He paid no heed to their tittle-tattle, and made his way down the muddy road- back hunched as his heavy backpack weighted him down. The moon still hung in the sky refusing to let the sun rise and the smell of the misty recent rain still resonated through the air, he always woke up really early to watch the sunrise. The dark sky shimmering with the faintest bits of sunlight was enough for the stupid cat to spot him from far away. Doesn't that _thing _ever sleep? Its dark honey-suckle irises narrowed at him as it began to chase after him. In his haste he hadn't notice the little worm wiggling its way to its friends and stepped on it. Admittedly, he had thought it was a stick and had purposefully stomped on it as a way to express his fury at the stupid cat. Oh how he would like to strangle it, rip open its fat belly and give its heart as a Christmas present to the little old lady next door.

He smiled as he thought of the stupid fat, old woman horrified face when she sees her cat ripped to shreds before her, its body parts placed in a pretty box, wrapped in colorful paper with a neat little bow on top. She would have a heart attack right then and there! He laughed that would be most pleasant – a great Christmas present as well. He frowned as he heard the dead worms' friend scream blue murder. And before he knew it, he was put on trial, like he committed a great atrocity. _Stupid worm_s, they are always so dramatic! He sighed and shook his head, like they hadn't down worse things. But, no when Arthur simply made a silly mistake suddenly they were the innocent victims and he the evil monster._ Stupid manipulative, cunning_ _things._ If it weren't for the birds and the rabbits on his side, he would have been executed on the spot without a doubt. He wondered if it had all been that _thing_'s plan all along. He clenched his fists in anger as he swore on that worm's grave that he will avenge it. He'll—

"My name's Alfred, what's your name?" the boy's voice interrupted his thoughts, no doubt thinking it would be a good thing to break the prolonged awkward silence. He felt as if his eardrums were going to burst from the boy's infuriating voice, it sounded like branches scratching against windowpanes. He winced, feeling like his ears were going to bleed. He wanted to rip out his vocal chords and—"Arthur" he replied shortly.

The boy smiled brightly, delighted that he learned the strange boy's name. The first step in making a new friend is learning their name after all. Arthur scowled at him and the urge to strangle the boy in front of him began to resurface.

"Cool" he said and his lips seemed to stretch upward across his face. Arthur marveled at the sight, he must have a pretty strong jaw. He didn't think anybody could smile that wide.

"Um— dude, can you hand me that blue folder next you?" Arthur blinked at him before noticing, indeed there was a blue folder next to him. He bent down to pick it up, brushing slightly melted snow off of it and handing it to Alfred.

"Thanks bro!" Arthur frowned and narrowed his eyes. "So, um you wouldn't happen to know where art class is, would you?"

Alfred, Arthur had found was very talkative, he could talk for ages he could talk about anything and nothing without so much as a pause for breathe. He told him how he moved here with his parents and younger brother because of his father's job transfer. Which came with no surprise to him, for Alfred didn't act like the townspeople he was too happy and cheery to be one of those ugly people. He told how he had been upset because he had live all his life in the suburbs and had many close friends there, who he have been looking forward to attending high school with. He was also nervous because he didn't know what people here were like, and was afraid of how they would react. He too, would be scared if he suddenly moved from the lively suburbs to quiet small town in the middle of nowhere in freshmen year in high school, Arthur thought.

However, Alfred nervousness and insecurities disappeared as soon as they appeared and he was back to his sprightly self, talking away like there was no tomorrow. By the end of second block, Arthur knew all there is to about Alfred F. Jones, from how he didn't what the 'F' in his name stand for, saying that his dad most likely made a mistake on his birth certificate to how he climbed a tree and broke his arm because he thought he saw a fish drinking coffee on the leaves when he had been given painkillers after he had gotten his wisdom teeth taken out.

Arthur sighed as they made their way to their next class; art had been uneventful with introduction and everyone whispering about the new kid. In a town where everyone knew everyone and no visitors came at all, a new student– was the talk of the decade, even the teachers were talking. And history, of course was no different. He sighed again as they climbed up the stairs, to Alfred's delight and Arthur's dismay they had almost all their classes together. Alfred was chatting away, something about accidently burying his brother in the sand on their vacation and forgetting about him for almost three hours.

Arthur really wasn't paying attention, "Good thing I didn't bury his head, but his face was completely sunburned" Alfred laughed. Arthur wondered how one got from talking about erasers and how awesome they were to accidently burying your brother in the sand, and people say he's a scatter-brain.

Upon entering their English class, everyone turned to look at them and people began to whisper. Arthur huffed and made his way to his seat in front of the class, but still close enough to the window for him to daydream as much as he liked. Alfred followed him and sat behind him.

_How annoying_.

The bell rang and a middle-aged woman with long brown hair and big round glasses made her way to front of the room, "I understand we have a new student with us" she said motioning to Alfred .

"Would you care to introduce yourself?" she asked

Alfred raised his hand in a mock wave, "Alfred Jones."

The class whispers got louder and Arthur heard one of the girls whisper about how_ hot_ Alfred was.

Arthur frowned, that was another thing that he found about Alfred … he was very social and anyone who met him can't help but like him, his carefree personality simply didn't allow for anyone to dislike him. Not only was he good-looking, but he had a certain charisma about him that made people want to talk to him.

That wasn't what annoyed Arthur the most, however; it was the fact that the boy wasn't put off by Arthur's cold, harsh demeanor or his rude snide remarks, or his sarcastic tone or even his complete and utter silence and his creepy (as people had often told him so) staring. The strange trance-like daydreams that Arthur would slip into wouldn't put him off either. Even as Arthur's green eyes became a strange, dull color when he was far way in his own world or when they became a poisonous green with rage, Alfred didn't go away. Even the fact that Arthur sometimes completely ignored him didn't stop Alfred from chatting; most likely knowing that Arthur would pay attention eventually, out of boredom or out of curiosity, he concluded. No, nothing he did or said made Alfred leave like everyone else.

It irked him.

It made his heart twist in agony against the hot boiling blood inside of it. He wasn't scared of him; he didn't call him a psycho. He didn't resent him like everyone else and by Lunch- time, Alfred had proclaimed that they were best friends!

God, that boy made him think of horrible, terrible things that he would like to do to him and that cat, but even if Alfred could read minds he wouldn't be bothered by Arthur's thoughts at all. Arthur was sure of it!

_Was he that oblivious? _

"Hey, Artie can I borrow a dollar?" Arthur frowned at the nickname before taking out a dollar and handing to Alfred.

Alfred's blue eyes shined with happiness, before taking the dollar, "Thanks, arts! You're the best!" he said as he ran down the hall to the vending machine.

Arthur sighed, it had been a month and he had more or less got used to Alfred's presence (grudgingly, of course). No matter how much time passed, Alfred never changed, he never turned into one of the townspeople, his personality remaining cheery. He stood out in blue amongst the gray, if that wasn't annoying enough the boy had a few minor 'vices' that irritated Arthur even further. It left Arthur wanting nothing more than to offer him as a sacrifice to the worms or at least as an apologize-gift, for they were still mad. One of these flaws was his 'borrowing' of money , it was never much, only a dollar each morning to buy an unhealthy snack that he claimed was his breakfast because he was in a rush in the morning and didn't have time to eat anything. It became an odd little routine between them: Arthur would get to school early and wait by the library entrance, sitting on the ground leaning his back against the wall, waiting for the librarian to come open the door. Alfred would arrive ten minutes later asking for a dollar, running do the hall to get his snack, and then he would come munching on something different each day and sit next to Arthur and talk as he always did. What annoyed Arthur the most; however was that he was actually getting use to this, if this continued until the end of high school. Alfred would no doubt owe him trillions of dollars and Arthur would make him pay. Every single one of them! He smiled smugly as he thought of Alfred's reaction.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Alfred loud voice through the halls; interrupting Arthur's thoughts yet again (another vice).

"Nothing" he replied.

"Aww come on you're no fun!" he said as he sat down next to Arthur and proceeded to open his snack.

"Leave alone you fucking idiot!" Arthur glared at Alfred who was still trying to open his bag of chocolate and peanut butter wafers. His right twitched at the sound of crumbling plastic paper. Alfred paid no attention to his insult and focused solely on getting the plastic bag in his hand open. 

_Rip- Rip- Rip _

"And for goodness sake, give me that" Arthur quickly snatched the bag from Alfred and opened it. A small protest came from Alfred before his pout quickly disappeared at seeing the bag ripped open.

"Thanks, Iggy you're truly are the best!" Another vice, Alfred called him by a different nickname every time he spoke to him. Did he have a thousand nicknames for him or something? Where does he even come with these things? Seriously how could anyone come up with the nickname Iggy for Arthur? There is no connection between those two names whatsoever! It didn't make sense!

Munch- Munch- Munch

Alfred was gnawing on his wafers loudly. Arthur left eye twitched this time, he sighed in exasperation. There was no end to his suffering! Maybe he could get the owl to bury Alfred alive, after all it was very good at digging graves.

"Hey, Arthur" Alfred catching his blank stare and sensing he was about to go into another trance. "Do you want one" he said as he offered him one of his wafers.

Arthur looked with disgust at his sticky fingers covered in chocolate, "No thanks, I don't like peanut butter" Alfred frowned, but said nothing.

_You are too skinny! So small and tiny that if some would accidently run into, you would go flying in the air!_ He had told him once as he held both of Arthur's hands in one hand to emphasize his point.

Alfred's mother had said something similar when he first met Alfred's parents a couple of weeks ago, _"You are so small, but that's no problem I'll fatten you up in no time" _

He sighed; they were all annoying, the entire Fucking Jones family! Maybe that's what the 'F' stands for. He smiled and Alfred frown deepened.

Done! Finally, that took longer than I thought (seriously its 3174 words on Microsoft word). Hopefully that wasn't too bad for a first fic (oooh and sorry about the cliché school scene(s), old habits die hard, I am afraid). Also this whole fic is going to be a coma splice fiasco; I'm horrible at grammar and punctuation! So sorry! As for spelling mistakes I did proofread but I might have missed some things, okay scratch **THERE ARE** a lot of things I missed so sorry for that too. I will probably go back and edit this again later.

Anyway, first things first: this story will be a few chapters long (no more than seven I think) and as I you can probably tell it won't be a happy one, so heads-up people feels are still at large and I will try to update as soon as I can. Another thing each part will be named after the colors you see in the beginning of the chapter. This is part blue but it's not finished yet and it's getting to be WAY too long and I super tired, my brains is dead, and fried, and have been severed to the zombies. And they were like "Eww" this taste like exhaustion. Anywhos, I will split up part blue in two (hey that rhymed I think) and might go back later and combine them.

Second: there is a large emphasis on colors going on in this story as you can see by the story title and my excessive use of the color blue and green to the point of it being annoying to my dear readers, but don't worry it all makes in a little bit (I hope it will, at least), anyway it's necessary for the plot. Also if you were weirded out or were bored by that squirrel-acorn scene thing, just know that that was a stream of consciousness literary device thing and I used partly because I always wanted to try it, and another more important reason is to portray Arthur's disoriented brain. As you probably can tell Arthur isn't well…sane, for the lack of a better word, in this fic. He isn't necessary insane, just mentally not sound? I guess. I can't explain it, whatever!

Anyhow, reference time: the acorn squirrel thing was a reference to an old English nursery rhyme called "who killed cock Robin?" it's an awesome rhyme!

That's all I have to say for now.

Till next time, my dears (if there is a next time)!

-Angel cakes


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